An Ordinary Day
by River Wren
Summary: Because, really, is there ever such a thing at the Weasley house?


o.O.o

Molly Weasley was having a bad day. No, she thought to herself grimly as she scrubbed the ceiling; she was not having a good day at all. Ron had been colicky all night long, meaning she had not gotten near enough sleep. And dealing with her six sons required a Molly Weasley in top form, especially given that all were excited about the coming Christmas.

But she was finding it very hard to be cheerful today. The cold, wet weather had forced all the boys inside, much to Charlie's dismay. Fred and George, for some incomprehensible reason, had decided the Christmas tree made an excellent ladder. Of course, the Christmas tree was not up to bearing the weight of the two young boys, and it had fallen. Loudly. Just as she had gotten Ron down for his nap.

The result had been a disaster. Needless to say, after the mess had been cleaned, all her children had been banished from the living room until further notice.

Of course then there was lunch to be made, and Percy wanted a story. Ron had to be put down for a nap and Bill and Charlie had lessons to do. Fred and George had been clingy all afternoon, likely in order to make amends for the tree incident, and she lost count of the number of times she had been forced to carry two up and down the many flights of stairs in the burrow.

Bill entered the kitchen, "Mum, can I… What are you doing?"

"I am cleaning porridge off the ceiling, Bill. What does it look like?" She snapped.

"Erm, how did the porridge get up there?" Molly leaned back against the ladder wearily. That was most certainly an excellent question. She suspected magic was involved since none of the usual household spells had worked to remove it, but honestly, she had no idea how it could have happened. She suspected Fred and George, but they were only two and she had never heard of _deliberate_ accidental magic, but she would put nothing past those two.

"Mum?" Bill asked, trying to get her attention.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Bill." She apologized, "I think it was probably Fred and George-"

"MUMMY! Fred and George won't give me back my book!" Percy hollered as he ran into the room. He almost crashed into Bill, who quickly stepped out of the skidding boy's way. Molly noticed distractedly that her third son had grown again, his wrists poked out far beyond the sleeves of his shirt.

Wearily, she began to climb down from the ladder, only to nearly be bowled over by the running twins.

"Nuh-uh," they shouted in unison. "He lie!"

"You stoled it!" Percy retorted. "I want my book!" Molly shook her head. Percy was almost obsessed with books, and had been since she first began teaching him how to read. It would be a grievous offense if the twins had indeed taken his book.

"Nuh-uh!" Fred and George said again in unison. Honestly, Molly thought distractedly, she really had to figure out how those two did it…

"Uh-huh!"

"Nuh-uh!"

The three began to bicker back and forth.

"Quiet!" Molly yelled, only to be thoroughly ignored. Annoyed she finished climbing down the ladder and headed towards her wayward sons, only to be stopped by Bill.

"Mum, Ron's crying. I think he's hungry. Listen, can I go outside and fly? It's still light enough out-"

"What?" Molly responded distractedly, pausing as she climbed down, her hand held against her aching back. "Oh, Ron. Yes. Could you fetch him for me?"

"Erm, sure. But when I'm done, can I go fly-" But Bill was interrupted by the twins and Percy, whose verbal argument had escalated into a physical one.

"Oh, now really!" Molly said exasperated. She attempted to pull the two year old twins off of Percy, but for such young children, they had a surprisingly tenacious grip.

"Boys! This is completely-" A flying body knocked into her, forcing all the air from her body with a solid "oomph."

Grabbing the boy's arms to prevent him from re-entering the fray, she looked down to see that it was George, who glanced up and gave his mother a wide smile.

"Here's Ron, mum." Bill had fetched his youngest brother and now held the nine month old infant out for his mother to take. "So I can go fly now, right?"

Molly was frazzled. "Erm, what's… Oh, Ron. Thank you, dear, for bringing him to me."

Releasing George, who with a rather underwhelming war cry, leapt forward to wrestle with Percy and Fred, she took the wailing Ron from Bill, attempting to calm him while the twins wrestled and Bill repeatedly asked if he could go fly. The noise in the kitchen was overwhelming.

"You would not believe how wet it is out there," A soaked and shivering Charlie stood in the door way, dripping mud and water everywhere. Really, Molly wondered, when had he gone outside? Last she checked, he had been in his room looking at that Quidditch book.

"Ah, now this means I can't go fly-" Bill began, only to be drowned out by the racket Percy and the twins were making as they knocked into the kitchen table, spilling the glasses that had remained from lunch. Molly sighed. She had been meaning to pick those up.

The twins immediately left off bothering Percy in favor of their new game, licking spilt pumpkin juice off the floor. The fact that the pumpkin juice mingled with the mud dripping from Charlie apparently only made them more enthusiastic.

"Here, Ron. Sit here for a moment." She plopped the still howling baby in his high chair. Grumbly again about her aching back, she stooped to grab Fred and George but the giggling toddlers evaded her, dashing under the table.

"Oh, honestly!" Molly stopped, exasperated. Her once pristine kitchen was now a disaster. She looked hopelessly around her, her head pounding from the noise.

"Hey, sprog." A chuckling Bill picked up a squealing Fred, before blowing raspberries on his stomach. George, seeing his twin getting all the attention, attempted to crawl up Charlie's leg. Unfortunately, due to the mud still running down the older boys body, all George succeeded in doing was covering himself in the mud.

"I wanna play!" George succeeded in tackling Charlie, sending them both crashing to the floor.

Molly looked around hopelessly for her wand. This was getting ridiculous.

"Fred! Gerrof me!" Charlie tried ineffectually to swat the toddler off him.

"Not Fred! George!"

"Nuh-uh! I George!" Fred screeched. At least, Molly thought it was Fred.

"Liar!"

Charlie stood, still clutching a squirming, screaming George, who was struggling to get to Fred. Bill held an equally wriggling Fred. Over the toddlers screaming, the two oldest boys argued about who had which toddler.

"I've got Fred. I think." grumbled Bill, straining to get a look at the toddler's face.

"No, I think I do." protested an equally occupied Charlie.

The oatmeal stuck to the ceiling chose that minute to fall. Unfortunately, it fell on top of Percy's head.

"Muuummy!" He wailed.

Ron, seeing a food source that was cruelly out of his reach, began screaming his protest. Of course this just added to the cacophony in the kitchen.

Fred and George still struggled to reach each other, still loudly screaming that HE was Fred, and the other was George.

Bill and Charlie still struggled to keep the twins separated, each unsuccessfully trying to hush the child they held, albeit loudly and with a large number of annoyed insults that on any other day Molly would have taken them to task for.

Of course, as fate would have it, Arthur Weasley chose this moment to return home. Work that day had been horrendously frantic, and he had been fantasizing about having a nice, quiet evening with his family. Unfortunately, his fantasies were quickly dispelled.

"Good-" Arthur stopped short, staring at the pandemonium around him. Percy stood in the middle of the kitchen with porridge dripping down his face, crying. Molly attempted to soothe both him and a screaming Ron at the same time. Bill and Charlie each held a struggling twin, all four loudly and vehemently insulting the others.

Arthur leaned against the door weakly.

"Wha-" he began feebly only to be drowned out by his quarreling family.

He tried again. "Excuse me!"

No one had even noticed his arrival, and his voice was once again lost amidst the squabbling voices.

Arthur Weasley'd had enough. "QUIET!" He yelled, exasperated.

Immediately, all activity stopped, and the guilty faces of six young boys turned to look at their father.

Of course, Molly thought uncharitably, they'll quiet for him. She looked faintly at her once clean kitchen. She noticed that somehow the calendar on the wall had been turned pink. She frowned as she contemplated it. There was something she was forgetting…

"What on earth is going on here?" Arthur asked faintly, again leaning against the counter.

Immediately, six voices clamored to get their point across.

Arthur held up his hand, rubbing the bridge of his nose with the other. "Okay, does anyone have anything important to add?"

Molly realized what she had been forgetting. Truthfully, she should have recognized it before. She turned away from the calendar.

Molly looked at Arthur evenly. "I'm pregnant."

o.O.o

Bill – 10 years  
>Charlie – 8 years<br>Percy – 4 years  
>Fred &amp; George – 2 years<br>Ron – 9 months  
>Ginny – NA

Story takes place a few days before Christmas, 1980.

**Actually like the ending to this one. I've been having an entire week that's been this crazy, so I empathize with Molly. Ah well. Ages for the Weasley children were taken from Hp-Lexicon via Google search. **


End file.
